by Kent Bushart
“You know,” he said.
That caused my temper to flare, but I tried to control myself. “I obviously don’t, or I wouldn’t be asking. Come on, what?”
Now he finally looked at me. “You made a pass at Kevin. In the bathroom. At his party. But you know that.”
“What? Like hell I did! Who told you that?”
“Kevin,” he said simply, as if the source was unimpeachable. He looked at me, searching my eyes.
“That’s a lie!” I cried, hot now. “He’s a fucking liar. He just said that to fuck with you. Fuck with us.”
I pictured myself driving straight to Kevin’s posh condo, kicking in the door, then grinding his face into the granite counter-tops of that over-wrought bathroom, with the natural stone and recessed lighting. Then I pictured myself being hauled away by the cops. That’ll put a hiccup in your college career.
I’m not a violent person, I swear. I’ve had a few fights on the soccer field, when guys got in my face, but that’s all. But when a jerk messes with someone I care about, I get nasty. And I hate bullies.
“Why would he lie about that?” Patton asked.
I couldn’t believe his naivety. “Why? Because he’s an asshole! He’s jealous, or mad at me for rejecting him, or both!”
Now I could see Patton had doubts. “When did that happen?”
“The night I went to the LGBT meeting. He invited me back to his place, but I gave him shit about his stupid Che Guevera t-shirt, and walked away instead,” I said. “I can’t stand the guy.”
“Then why did you go to his party?” He asked.
“Because you wanted to go.”
He sat quietly, processing.
“Look, when did he tell you all that?” I asked. “I mean, what were the circumstances?”
“He came to my dorm room, the Friday afternoon before Spring Break.”
The day after the party.
“He’s been to your dorm before?” I asked.
Patton shook his head. “No, never. I don’t know how he found it. He would have had to look me up, I guess.”
“He didn’t call first, or anything? Just showed up?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Have you two ever talked much before? Had many friendly conversations? Hung out at all?”
“No, not really. Not at all, actually. He’s always kind of ignored me,” he admitted.
I snorted. “But now he’s all concerned about you.” Here the guy was supposed to be on a plane to LA, and he went to all the trouble to look Patton up and book it to his dorm, just because he couldn’t wait to smear me in person. “What did he say, exactly?”
He shifted on the bench, facing me more. “He said that you were coming out of the bathroom, saw him and pulled him in. Then you locked the door, and put your hands on him, tried to kiss him.”
Oh, brother. Kevin’s wet-dream. Everybody wants him.
“That’s not what happened at all. Do you want to know what really happened?”
He nodded slowly. Maybe he wasn’t so sure he really wanted to know.
“I was coming out of the bathroom, and he pushed me back in. He showed me some coke, and asked if I wanted to do any. I said no. Then he started talking about you.”
“About me? What did he say?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just about how you were a nerd, played dungeons and dragons, were running around in costumes last semester. And something about some guy. J.D.”
“J.T.?” He asked in a small voice.
“Yeah, J.T.”
I could tell that hit a nerve. “Why didn’t you say something?” He asked.
“Because it doesn’t matter. I knew what he was trying to do, it was so obvious,” I said. “I would have told you eventually, but we were at a party, and you were drunk.”
“Not drunk,” he protested.
“Okay, a little tipsy, and having a good time. I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”
Now he looked distressed. “Why would he do all that?”
I sighed. “Look, I don’t know what motivates some people. I guess it upsets his world view that I would actually prefer you over him. And no matter who you are, there’s always someone ready to mess with your relationship. I’ve seen it before. In high school, some hot, popular couple would get together, and the girls are all like, ‘Isn’t that sweet? They’re so cute together,” and all that, then set about trying to tear them apart, make trouble. Not all the girls, I mean. Just a few. Guys too. People that are jealous.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “But one person is all it takes, if you let them.”
He wouldn’t look at me, and stared off into the distance. There were some people walking around, couples coming and going, but mostly we were alone.
“You know, it really hurts that you just cut me off,” I said quietly. “Didn’t tell me what Kevin said about me. Didn’t give me a chance to give my side.”
He looked at the ground. “I’m sorry. I just–never mind.”
“Go on. Tell me, please.”
He turned his head to face me, his pretty blue-eyes glistening. “I guess I just never really believed that a guy like you would be interested in a guy like me.”
So that was it. “You can’t believe it? Not even after I stood up in the coffee house?” I asked, incredulous.
“It’s just–J.T. wasn’t. He sat me down and just told me right out that I was a weirdo, and a guy like him could never be into a little creep like me.” I could tell just the memory of it was painful. I could see his hurt little boy, clearly, out in the open. “That I was too short, too pushy and obnoxious, and I had no business being so cocky. That I had absolutely nothing to be cocky about.”
It made me mad anyone would talk to him like that. “That’s interesting, because that’s why I like you,” I said to the side of his head.
“Huh?” He looked at me.
“I don’t care that you’re short. I think you’re cute. And I like that you’re confident, and bold. Got balls. Believe in yourself.”
He looked down at his feet, that barely touched the ground. “It’s all a put-on,” he said sadly.
That was really a stunning admission, for him.
“I get it,” I said quietly. “Everybody puts-on, for the world. You’re just a little more amped up about it than most people.”
He looked at me with an unreadable expression. Kind of a mix of gratitude and disbelief.
“And I’m not J.T,” I said. “If you ever see that guy around, I want you to point him out to me.”
“How come?” He asked.
“Because. I would love to kick his ass.”
He smiled a little at that.
“Come on, let’s walk around some,” I said.
We walked down the sidewalk a bit, then off across a green area, away from the lights. He was quiet. I was thinking, and got an idea.
“Let’s make a pact,” I said.
“A pact?” He asked. “What?”
“Let’s promise to be friends first, and boyfriends second.”
He looked up at me curiously.
“What I mean is–Look, if someone was saying something to you about your best friend, what would you do?”
He blinked. “Tell him,” he said.
“Right. You wouldn’t cut him off, and never speak to him again. You’d go to him and tell him, ‘So and so said this about you,’ and see what he had to say about it, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“So let’s make a pact, to just trust each other. If someone tells you something about me, come to me and tell me. I’ll be honest with you, I swear.”
He thought about it.
“And I’ll do the same for you,” I added.
He still looked like something was gnawing at him. “Don’t you care that I’m a nerd? Like D&D, and Star Wars, and things like that? Wouldn’t you want me to give that up?”
I made a dismissive sound. “No. I’m not into that stuff, but no, I wouldn’t want you to give up someth
ing you like. You wouldn’t want me to give up soccer, would you?”
“Of course not.”
“But that’s something else that bugs me, frankly. You also didn’t trust me enough to be real about who you really are, and tell me about the things you like,” I said.
I waited while that sunk in.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t like me anymore, if you knew all that,” he finally admitted.
That almost made me mad again, then I thought about who he’d been dealing with, until me. It was totally true some guys are exactly like that. Guys like Kevin, and this J.T.
“Do you really think I’m that shallow? What have I ever done to make you feel that way?”
“Nothing,” he said. “You’ve been great, really. I guess I was just afraid to believe this was all for real. Like, if I really believed, it would be over.”
I sighed. “I’m not going to keep convincing you. I think if you don’t believe it by now, you never will,” I said.
We walked a little more, and I waited some more.
Finally, he spoke. “Jules, I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just think you’re great, and didn’t want to lose you.”
“The only way you’d lose me is to not be real with me,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, sadly.
We stopped under a tree, in the dark, alone.
“It’s okay. You were hurt, and confused. Just never let it happen again, okay? A pact, all right?”
“A pact,” he agreed.
I wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him.
We stayed there a long time, well over half an hour, making out like a couple of monkeys in heat, and I felt better.
Much better.
***
The rest of the semester was pretty nice. We kept going out, to movies in town a couple of times, but mostly stuff on campus. The coffee house, meals, study breaks and study sessions, although I admit I had some trouble concentrating when he was around. I met some of his friends, and he met some of mine, and some of them guys from the team. He even came and watched us practice a few times. I didn’t hate it.
One evening we met for dinner. I was running late, so I went straight from working out.
“You’re kind of sweaty,” he said.
“I’ve been at the gym,” I said. “You know, you could come with me, sometime. It will make you feel good, give you confidence.”
“You think I need confidence?” He asked, a bit indignant.
“Oh, no, never,” I teased. “But you might try it. For yourself, not for me. Well, maybe a little for me,” I admitted. “I could show you around. But whatever. I like you how you are.”
“You think I don’t know how to work out? I was on the wrestling team, you know.”
“I know.”
We’d had a conversation about that, too. I found out the real reason he’d quit high school wrestling. I didn’t agree with it, but I understood.
It was about the time he’d started feeling there was something different about himself. He was afraid he’d embarrass himself, and get a boner clutching at guys on the mat, and it is hard to hide such a thing in a wrestling singlet. Also, he didn’t think it was fair to his opponent, when they didn’t know he had those feelings. I didn’t agree with that. Wrestling is combat, not dating, but I didn’t judge him on that. Coming out to yourself can be a difficult, confusing time for any guy.
But he did start meeting me at the gym a couple of times a week. Not as much as me, but still enough to make a difference. One day, after a few weeks, he flexed his bicep for me.
“Here, feel that,” he said.
I squeezed his arm. “Ooo, getting big,” I said, building him up. “Pretty soon you’re going to look just like Arnold.”
“Get used to it,” he said, same old Patton.
One day, when we were going into the Student Union together, we saw Kevin coming out.
“Hey, Kevin!” Patton loudly called, causing his head to jerk to see who it was.
“Hey, Kevin!” I said, just as loud. We both gave him big, animated waves.
He cast us a foul look, and stumped on his way. Yes, Kevin, your little game failed. Try again with someone else.
Finally, the semester wound down into late May. The warm clothes were gone, and everyone strutted around in shorts and tshirts, or less, showing their flesh.
It was finals, and people would soon head out for the summer. I was a little bummed. I would miss Patton.
I thought my grades would be okay. I was doing good in Chem, was acing Spanish, English, and Western Civ, but I was sure Calculus was going to bring down my GPA. I’d have to work it back up next semester, but at least I’d gotten my math requirement over with.
Late in the last week I found Carlton packing up his stuff. “My last test is Thursday,” he said. “I’m leaving Friday morning.”
I knew Patton’s parents were coming to get him on Saturday, so I hatched my evil plan.
Okay, maybe not that evil. Evil only if you consider having sex with your boyfriend evil.
I made a quick trip to a drugstore off campus, then went to Patton’s room.
“What are you doing?” I asked, once he’d opened the door.
“Studying for my Western Civ final,” he said.
“Come on, take a break with me.” He didn’t need much convincing.
“Guess we’ll be going home soon,” I said, as we walked to the Union for more coffee. We’d been avoiding the subject.
“I guess. I’ll miss you so much,” he said.
“I’ll miss you, too. But it will go fast,” I said.
He was quiet for a bit. “Think you’ll want to see me, next year?”
I was insulted by the question. “Of course.”
“A lot can happen over the summer,” he said. “You could meet someone else.”
“Only if he’s a middle-aged married Hispanic guy, working on my father’s crew,” I said. “I’m going to be busting my ass, making money for school. How many times do I have to tell you, I like you?”
He shrugged.
“Look, if that happens, I’ll tell you. Our pact, remember?”
“I remember.”
We got our coffees and sat down across from each other in the coffee house. I decided to tell him about an idea I’d been toying with.
“What if we went to the housing office, right now, and requested each other for roommates next semester?”
He seemed surprised I would propose such a thing, and his eyes bulged. “Really? We can do that?”
“Hell yes,” I said. “Think of it. No more Farmer Browns, or science-geeks, just you and me.”
He considered it. “That would be amazing,” he breathed. “But–“
“But you could meet someone too, over the summer. Someone you like better than me,” I said.
“Impossible,” he sputtered.
“Then let’s not think that way. Look, if it doesn’t work out, we can switch. It will be a hassle, but we can do it,” I said. “I can’t see that happening, but let’s just keep our pact. Promise to be friends first, and be decent to each other, no matter how it works out.”
He thought about it. “Okay,” he said, turning his eyes on me. I held them.
We left our coffees and went immediately to the housing office, and made the request. I walked back with him, then left to study for my last final.
Then Friday evening we met at the only dining hall still open on campus. A lot of people were finished, and had already boogied home. Everyone was supposed to be out of the dorms by Saturday.
“You know, Carlton left this morning,” I said, after getting our trays and sitting down.
“Farmer Brown is still here,” he said, then the implications of my statement sank in. “Wait a minute. The midnight masturbator’s gone?”
I’d told him about Carlton, and we’d had our little jokes at his expense.
“Yep. Wanna come over?” I winked.
&nbs
p; We ate like starving animals and charged out of there.
Once in my room, I put on some music, softly, and turned out the lights. Someone tapped on my door. A lot of kids were partying, and it was probably some guys from my floor, wanting me to join them.
“Shhh,” I whispered to him. “Nobody home.”
We undressed each other and went to it, and it was great.
I know some people wouldn’t have pulled the roommate trigger without having sex first, but based on our make-out sessions I was pretty sure we would be good together.
I wasn’t wrong.
We didn’t just have sex, we made love. We did everything, tried everything, and went nuts. It was heaven.
It wasn’t at all like a trick. There was no hurry, and he wasn’t a stranger. He was someone I cared about, had gotten to know well, and cared about pleasing, cared about making happy. I’m pretty sure it was the same for him.
At times he was a wild imp, other times a gentle, giving Romeo. We did it many times, our entire pent-up semester coming out in one night. That J.T. twerp had no idea what he was missing.
We stopped only for bathroom breaks and snacks, which I had cunningly stored away for the occasion.
Finally, in the wee hours, we fell asleep in each other’s arms, crammed together on my single bed.
It wasn’t until late morning that we were awakened by the sunlight streaming in the window.
“Oh, no,” he said blearily, after we’d cuddled a bit more. “What time is it?”
I looked at the alarm clock. “Ten-thirty.”
He sat up. “Shit! My parents will be here at noon, and I’ve barely packed anything. I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll come help you.” I had all afternoon to pack, and make my way home.
“Really? You’ll probably end up meeting my parents,” he said.
“That’s okay,” I said. “I’d like to.”
He lay back down in my arms, unwilling to let our time together end so abruptly.
“Is this what it’s going to be like next year? Rooming together?” He wondered aloud.
“Yeah,” I said, crushing him to me. “Get used to it.
